The True Harry Potter
by Wordstreamer
Summary: Harry's life after the war was good--and then Hermione told him that she wanted to tell his story to a new audience. The characters will seem very OOC at first. Spoilers through Deathly Hallows, goes AU after GoF, non-Epilogue compliant. HP/DM Slash.


**All rights belong to J.K. Rowling! Her characters, based on events in her books, her places, etc.**

**This is a story that takes place a few years after Book Seven. If you haven't finished reading through the 7th book, there WILL be spoilers... Erm, I've also changed quite a few things. I think you'll figure that out if you read on. The characters all seem a little OOC, which should make sense as the story wears on. **

**Please send me reviews. I eat them. If you send me no reviews, I'll starve, and that would be unfortunate.**

"Uncle Harry?" He looked over his shoulder. "In here, Rose!" He grinned as she ran in. "Mommy published your first book today!" "Did she?" He raised his eyebrows. "Yup! Here you go," said Rose, holding it out as proudly as if she had written it. He raised his eyebrows at the title. "That's blunt." _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_ was embossed on the front cover. "Mommy said to remind you that she'd changed some things," Rose told him. "And that you told her it was okay if she talked about your life with the Dursleys." She made a face, but Harry couldn't blame her for that. "I remember, Rose," Harry said. He sat down in the chair with the book, stroking the cover thoughtfully for a moment.

Although they'd talked it over, he still wondered how much Hermione had changed of the real story. "It's going to be a kid's book, Harry," she had told him. "So I'll be leaving some things out, changing others…" When he'd asked her how she could change anything—it seemed like most of the Wizarding world had managed to pick at and scrape until his entire life was an open book—she had mumbled something about going to a new audience. But until she had admitted the truth a few months later, he hadn't quite realized that she had meant Muggles.

Things had changed over the past few years. From the final battle onwards…. He winced. He still didn't like to remember some of those changes. A few of them were fine things—he looked up at the portrait on the mantelpiece—but some of them were better forgotten. Whenever he thought about it and remembered that it was really before the final battle, that it had started back in the forest when Ron had failed to destroy the locket… He shook his head.

"Uncle Harry?" He came back to the present to smile at his niece. "Aren't you going to read Mum's book?" "Yeah." He smiled at her again. "I'll do that now, as a matter of fact." He was on vacation for the next few days—forced to by his very persistent partner. He could still hear the words echoing in his mind: "You never get any rest anymore! I'd like to help make you more… Relaxed…" accompanied by a rather seductive smirk—or a smirk attempting to be seductive; they appeared the same to him by now.

He opened the book and started to read. A few hours later he had finished—it was a short enough story, and it helped that he already knew most of the details. "Your mother didn't seem to change a lot," he told Rose, who had been reading her own copy nearby. "She says that she's doing more in the other books." She continued to read while Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Other books?" "Yup. She said she's doing one for every year." He snorted. "Only one?" Rose looked up at him—she hated sarcasm and its similar cousins—but her gaze shifted over his shoulder. "Mummy!" she cried, running past him. Harry turned to look over his shoulder—the wards were charmed to allow Hermione through with no trouble—but he still usually heard her coming, and was startled that he hadn't this time.

"Hello, Rose," she said as she picked up her daughter and swung her around. "Harry?" She saw her book in his hand. "Did you like it?" she asked with a hint of timidity. "I did," he told her. She smiled. "I thought you probably would. I hope that you still like the rest of them," she said. "I'm sure I will," he told her firmly. She regained her normal, confident demeanor with that. "Ginny said to remind you about dinner with the Weasleys tonight," Hermione said. "I'll remember." "Good. Are you ready to go, Rose?" They left, and Harry smiled after them. He was fond of Rose—and of the Weasleys, even though they had every right to be disappointed and want to cluster in together after the war. He heard them leave, and then relaxed in the chair. He knew that if Hermione had seen Ginny, then soon—

"Harry?" After these years, the voice still sent pleasant thrills along his spine. He pushed up, turning around to face his partner. "Draco."


End file.
